Intertwinings

In Cha's Dictee, in the section called Love Poetry, she uses the pages in an interesting way in that the story doesn't read straightforward but jumps across pages. This may create some confusion but it also creates a story for itself. I believe what Cha was trying to do was to show that each story has layers. Just as each person does.

Writing can be flat. It can lack depth. A writer can tell a story but if it isn't layered it isn't as interesting. If a character is only shown in one light it seems to cheapen that characters ability to be understood. In this section of the book, Cha takes a woman watching a show at the theater and shows her becoming part of the movie as if she is watching herself on screen. This is one story, but she intertwines this story with a woman who was unseen.  This woman was married through an arrangement her parents made. She struggles to love a husband that she didn't select for herself.  There is no indication that these women are one and the same but it provides a look at two very different scenarios in which a woman can be viewed.

In some ways these two women seem to be juxtaposed in that one is seen while the other is unseen. I am sure many women can identify with both. In many ways America affords us the ability to have more equality with men but there are those who are still unseen - whether through culture or abuse or choice. Although I believe not many women would choose to be unseen.

I appreciate what Cha does with the story as it creates an interesting read when trying to piece it together. I believe this effect does something more than what words can really say. It tells a deeper story still.

Something to Think About - Boundaries

As an adult, I have often thought about boundaries as ways of protecting oneself from harm.  In my early twenties I learned that I did not have good boundaries, at least not emotional ones.  I just let things happen - "A tumbleweed" as my mother called it. 

Learning to set boundaries was hard, what line to draw and where.  What was going to far, too extreme and what should be erased.  So I found myself in an exploratory search trying to define for myself what my emotional boundaries were.  Sometimes I was successful and other times not and even still I struggle trying to figure out if they are needed or not.

Some boundaries or borders are provided for us.  Physically we have a place we call home with walls, doors, and windows; but the doors don't always stay shut, the windows don't always stay closed and there are times that even the walls come down.  I think of writing as having similar traits in that they have structure but sometimes it helps to open a window to feel a cool breeze, open a door to greet a friend and invite them in, and remove a wall to create some great site lines.  Funny that the remodeling rave is to tear down walls to create an "open concept". 

When we push boundaries with writing we can perhaps share things that are difficult to share in a conventional genre, find ways to explore feelings and meaning, and even along the way surprise ourselves with what is written down.  Exploring unknown territory is what has brought about great discoveries whether great lands or new hybrid genres.  All we need is the will and determination to seek it out.

Experiences "ancient and hidden"

Audre Lorde speaks out about being able to share our experiences through language.  She writes, "These places of possibility within ourselves are dark because they are ancient and hidden; they have survived and grown through that darkness.  Within these deep places, each one of us holds an incredible reserve of creativity and power, of unexamined and unrecorded emotion and feeling."  This quote speaks a great deal about people who are "outsiders", people who have been limited in being able to share their experiences.  Experiences that are worth sharing because they speak to those who share similar stories.

I liken our "ancient and hidden" places to a tree that can survive in the crevice of cement, shielded by light, and yet it yearns for the rare rays that spray its surface if even just momentarily.  The tree grows, it sprouts new branches and new leaves, struggling to survive, strengthening as it stretches taller - it's roots firmly affixed deep into the earthen floor. 

We are just like a tree, each firmly affixed with roots in family and experience.  We struggle to survive, to find light amidst our dark world, to speak out when others want to silence us, to share our stories, to stretch our minds, our pens, so others know what we know so well. 

We know us.  Each of us experiences in some way joy, fear, pain, happiness, birth, death, love, faith, and hope, but only we can reflect them the way we feel them.  Only we can share them through language in the way we affix the words to a page; whether that is through careful consideration or an unfurling flow of the pen.  Only we can share the "ancient and hidden" us.

First Post - Looking forward to learning to blur